


Return of an Unforgotten Foe

by softnotlizzie



Series: Wilbur's Interludes [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 2020 L'Manberg Election on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Loves You, But not today, Character is Revived, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghostbur, Humor, Kinda, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Smile, Some Humor, no beta we die like men, on tumblr, softnotlizzie, someday i will learn to not hate tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28640727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softnotlizzie/pseuds/softnotlizzie
Summary: Wilbur didn’t remember it hurting this badly to breathe.(Wilbur didn’t remember too much at all.)Alternatively, Alivebur makes his return as Ghostbur sacrifices his own livelihood in order to get Tommy and Tubbo the help that they need.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationships - Relationship, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Wilbur's Interludes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098854
Comments: 31
Kudos: 204





	1. Breathe, Motherfucker

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new series! Wilbur centric. It's about fucking time considering i love him (character and person but not in a creepy way for the person part) literally so much lol. I think this well be not as angsty as the tommy fics, but we'll see. enjoy!

Wilbur didn’t remember it hurting this badly to breathe.

(Wilbur didn’t remember too much at all.)

His chest felt like the weight of the world was resting on it, or at least a medium-sized anvil. His first breath was more of a choking cough, and the ones that came after were shallow and panicked. It didn’t help that having so little air in his lungs was only causing him to be further worked up, shortening his breath even further. 

He was starting to worry if he’d pass out or simply just die from all this breathing, or lack thereof, when he was brought very startlingly into reality by a firm hand on his shoulder. Wilbur was dragged up from what he hadn’t even realized was a laying position, and a second hand began to reign down hard on his back.

Wilbur was fairly certain that was not an effective way to stop someone from suffocating, but he ended up finally being able to regulate his breathing on his own.

That is, until he caught sight of exactly whose hands were on him. 

The coughing took over yet again when Wilbur locked eyes with Philza himself. And Phil, curse him, only laughed a soothing laugh and continued beating Wilbur’s back.

“Stop, stop that,” Wilbur croaked, and was surprised how fucking hoarse his voice was. As if it hadn’t been used in months.

Well…

Wilbur batted Phil’s hands away from him for long enough to breathe normally again and come to terms with the fact that he had no idea where he was or what was happening.

Philza, seeming to understand, allowed Wilbur the relative silence he needed to try and bring his brain back to working order.

Remember. Remember, Wil, think. What do you remember? Do you remember at all?

What the fuck is going on?

“It’s a bit of a long story, Wil,” Philza answered, letting Wilbur know that he had said the last part out loud, at least.

Wilbur raised his head from where he’d previously been staring at his hands, trying to force his mind to bring something up from the depths of his memory, to look Phil in the eyes. 

“I can’t remember,” Wilbur said, and immediately launched into another coughing fit.

“Don’t try to talk,” Phil warned, and reached his hand out again, but backed away when he remembered how bad that had turned out. “Just think quietly for a minute. I want to see if it’ll come back to you.”

“If what will…” Wilbur trailed off when his mind suddenly became very full. The transition from dead empty to chaotically packed was still not helpful for his memory. Phil waited quietly, offering Wilbur no respite.

After probably three more minutes of agonizing pain crowding his brain, things started to force themselves into order. 

He remembered everything. He remembered Tommy and Tubbo, and Fundy and Eret, and Niki and Jack. He remembered Dream and Technoblade and J. Schlatt all the same. He was confident he would’ve remembered them no matter what. He was still a little lost on how Philza got into the picture, but he was getting there.

Wilbur saw flashes of the happiest time of his life, and a van he built himself. Laughing and smiling and cheering and probably too much drinking and too many crimes. 

It got dark. Wilbur felt proud to have worn that revolutionary uniform, but sad to know the reason he was forced to don it. He saw flashes of walls, and fire, and TNT. Voices spoke over each other so that Wilbur could only discern some coherent sentences. 

“Down with the revolution, boys.”

“I want to see white flags!”

“Do I shoot him, Wil?”

“Meet him face-to-face.”

“Or do I aim for the sky?”

“It was never meant to be.”

Music was playing in his head. A special place. Tyranny. Not blown up…

L’Manburg.

Wilbur thought there was happiness after that time, too. He remembered being so sad for Tommy, yet so incredibly proud. 

It didn’t last long. They lost. He didn’t remember what it was that they lost, but he remembered dying as a result. They ran. Wilbur and…Tommy. They were alone for a long time, and it was dark, and it was cold. 

His brother got involved, but Wilbur didn’t think he appreciated that well enough. He was so upset about other things. Fundy. Eret. Tubbo. Niki. Even Schlatt. Technoblade suffered because of him.

Wilbur winced as the worst of it started flooding in. He didn’t remember much from this period, but he remembered Tommy yelling at him, telling him he was crazy, telling him that there was no point in doing anything if you’ve lost all hope. He’d been right. Wilbur was pretty sure that he hadn’t thought so back then.

If Wilbur had thought those memories were bad…

He could barely grasp onto anything at all. He heard Quackity’s voice, and so much Tommy, Tubbo and Technoblade. Tommy was so angry, always so angry. Everything passed in such a flash and his skin was itching, his hands reaching up, fingernails digging into his scalp. He registered Philza shuffling uncomfortably next to him, probably wondering if he was meant to try and stop him. 

Phil.

Everything was gone again. It was dark, and all Wilbur could hear was that song again. My L’Manburg. His country, his nation…his unfinished symphony. It existed and then it simply—didn’t.

“What are you doing.” Philza’s voice was so clear that he thought present-Phil had said it, but when Wilbur’s eyes flicked over, it was certain that he hadn’t. 

Oh.

Oh, no.

He’d…

Wilbur had…

Fuck. 

And then Phil…

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Philza,” Wilbur finally said whimpered, “What the fuck did I do?”

His father’s lips pressed tight into a line. He looked down at his feet, heaved a large sigh, and looked back up to Wilbur. “So you remember?”

“Not…” Wilbur began, only now starting to notice his surroundings. He was laid on the floor in a cave. “Not all of it.”

“What do you remember, Wilbur?”

“I know everything up until I lost the election. From there, it gets spotty. And I don’t think it will ever come back. In my brain it feels like…it never even happened. And then, it’s so clear from when we defeated Schlatt to when I—when I…”

“When you pushed the button,” Phil finished. “And blew up L’Manburg.”

A shaky breath left Wilbur and his head dropped into his hands. “Jesus Christ, Phil. What the fuck did I do? I mean—why?”

Wilbur felt like he was going to cry. Almost wished he could return to that state of complete unawareness and pretend nothing ever happened. His breaths were speeding up again.

“You probably don’t remember that time period because you were…not yourself. You were totally unstable, Wil. I don’t think you even knew what you were doing,” Phil spoke in a consoling tone. “I don’t really know why you did it. You should probably talk to someone else. Well, you should definitely talk to the others, but you should ask them why you did it.”

Wilbur nodded. But there was still such a big hole.

“Why doesn’t my chest hurt, Phil?” Wilbur asked. To confirm, he patted around his entire torso, and felt no soreness beyond disuse of his muscles. “I made you…you stabbed me.”

Phil’s eyes looked so sad. “So you don’t remember everything…”

What else was there to tell him? Wilbur had already had the new broken to him that he was a terrible president and an even worse person. There was not much else that would shock him from this point. He told Phil all of this.

The older man gave a disbelieving chuckle, but appeased him. “You fuckin’ died, Wil. I killed you.”

“What?” Wilbur screeched, wincing when he was very painfully reminded that his vocal chords were not at all prepared for that. “But I was on my last life, Phil. There’s no way. How the fuck am I here, then?”

“Wilbur…” Phil started, and Wilbur knew that what he said next was going to hurt him. “It’s been about three months. You came back as a ghost—we called you Ghostbur. He was different from you, though. Only remembered good things from both your time and his own. Hated to be reminded of you…”

“Yeah, makes fucking sense,” Wilbur snapped. 

Philza went on. “A lot happened during that time, Wilbur. There’s a lot to fucking catch up on. We didn’t know if you, Alivebur, would remember things from your time as Ghostbur, so we had him write down everything he remembered.”

“Alivebur?” Wilbur asked with a bit of an unbelieving tone.

Philza grimaced slightly, but ended with the slightest hint of a grin. “It was easier to distinguish between the two of you.”

For the sake of Phil, Wilbur let out a bit of a laugh. “Where are we?”

The two of them looked around, and Wilbur realized that he already knew the answer when he saw the signs scattered haphazardly on the four walls of the small room. 

“Yeah,” Phil sighed, taking in the realization on Wilbur’s features. “Yeah, we’re in the button room. It’s another long story. But!”

Phil stood and hobbled to the corner of the room, where two thick books were stacked, waiting. He placed them heavily in Wilbur’s lap and said, “These should fill you in.”

Wilbur looked at Philza questioningly. 

“Like I said, we asked Ghostbur to write down everything from his time. Got some help, because he forgot all the negative stuff. So, it’s all there. Read them before you leave this room,” his tone offered no room for questioning or rebuttal. With that, Philza offered Wilbur an awkward pat on his shoulder, and walked away down the room’s only hallway.

Well, then. He would read.

Hi, Alivebur. 

I’m Ghostbur. I don’t like you that much. But Tommy and Tubbo really need help so I’m going to come back to life and let you take over because I can’t help them in this form. After you blew up the country, we actually immediately began rebuilding. People actually liked me. They don’t like you, though. I helped them build beautiful houses and pretty Chinese lanterns! I made a lot of friends. It took a while for them to get used to calling me Ghostbur and not mentioning you, but they did.

Tubbo was president and he did a great job! You should be very proud. Everything seemed okay for a little bit, but then things got bad. I got help from Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity for this bit. 

Tommy was being reckless because he was bored (and I think he was still coping with losing you). He burnt down George’s house (oh, George became king by the way) with another kid named Ranboo. You’ll love him! He’s half-enderman and has memory problems just like me—or you—or both. Be very nice to him.

Dream got mad at Tommy and built walls around L’Manburg as a punishment, so Tubbo and Quackity and Fundy also got mad at Tommy. Tommy went on trial, and it was decided that Tommy would be on probation for two weeks, and if he fixed his behavior, Dream would take down the walls and they would consider it even.

That obviously didn’t happen. It’s Tommy. They had a meeting because Dream decided probation wasn’t enough. He wanted Tubbo to exile Tommy. At the meeting, Tommy threatened Dream with the leather of his dead horse, Spirit. 

For a moment, it worked. Dream started taking down the walls and Quackity and Fundy were so happy. Then it went wrong. Quackity said that Dream yelled at Tommy, telling him that he didn’t care about Spirit, that he only cared about the discs. Dream again demanded that Tubbo exile Tommy. 

Tommy thought he wouldn’t do it. Tubbo called Tommy selfish. And then he asked Dream to escort Tommy out of L’Manburg. He was exiled.

I think you’re not supposed to be mad at Tubbo for this. He was under duress, apparently. I don’t remember that part.

I went with Tommy for the first part of his exile. He was devastated. (Ranboo helped me with this part. You’ll see why later.)

I was apparently keeping Tommy sane, and we planned a beach party for Tommy to see his friends. Even Dream was being nice to Tommy. 

I went to go give the invitations to Tommy’s friends, but Dream stopped me, took the invitations, and told me to go into the woods in the snow. I did. I got lost. 

Ranboo said that no one came to Tommy’s party and Dream started manipulating Tommy. He was mean to him, but convinced Tommy that they were friends because no one else visited Tommy in exile. Tommy got very, very sad. He was very lonely.

Tommy almost died in exile. Both by Dream’s hand and his own.

Finally, Tommy escaped. Ranboo says he went to Technoblade, and they allied because Technoblade was almost assassinated by L’Manburg and needed his stuff back, and Tommy needed help getting the discs.

Tommy started to feel better, I think. Tubbo thought Tommy had died, though. He was very sad. 

Eventually, Tubbo found out that Tommy was alive because the two of them met up in L’Manburg, but they were very angry at each other. I think they didn’t talk very much. 

It got really, really bad after that.

L’Manburg planned a festival where they were finally going to execute Dream. It didn’t go to plan. 

I don’t remember that day at all. It was terrible. 

Tommy and Tubbo told me that Tommy was watching invisibly while Dream framed him for blowing up the community house. After a few minutes, Tommy stormed in to defend himself. Technoblade followed.

Tubbo and the others were mad at Tommy. They believed Dream. Dream wanted Tubbo to give him Tommy’s final disc. 

Tommy and Tubbo had a fight. They said some very mean things, but neither of them told me what exactly they said. It must’ve been very bad. Finally, Tommy realized what he was doing. He said he was “fighting for the wrong thing.” Tommy and Tubbo apologized to each other and stood side-by-side for the first time in months. Tommy said he would fight with Tubbo. He told Tubbo to give Dream the disc. Tubbo did.

Tommy says he betrayed Technoblade that day. Left him alone. Tommy’s still hurting about that, I think. Dream revealed the truth about him and his real intentions, and said horrible things to Tubbo. (They didn’t tell me what he said either.) He and Technoblade allied then, and told L’Manburg to say their goodbyes because they were going to REALLY destroy L’Manburg the next day.

Tommy and Tubbo made the choice to fight instead. They had everyone on their side. It was looking good.

I wasn’t there for the rest. Tommy and Tubbo didn’t tell me much, so you might need to ask them. Apparently, Fundy and Niki were mad about how L’Manburg had gotten so bad, and went rogue. They destroyed the war supplies and would not help.

We stood no chance.

L’Manburg lost its final life that day. 

Everyone else survived. Dream isn’t done with them yet, I think.

Dream went far away. Tubbo and Tommy reunited for good. They made promises. They helped each other to heal at least a little bit. We said goodbye to L’Manburg. For good.

They decided that Dream had to be gone for good as well. 

And I decided that I wanted to do what I could. So I’m giving over to you.

That’s all! Good luck! <3

p.s.: Tommy said that you were very upset at Philza because he helped Technoblade and Dream destroy L’Manburg. Also, he was taking care of Friend, your sheep, and he let him blow up.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

Wilbur didn’t realize how hard he was taking this until he choked on a sob. God, why couldn’t he stop choking today? He needed to see it. He didn’t want to see it, but he needed to see it. He needed to speak to Tommy and Tubbo and Niki and Fundy. He wanted to throw Dream against a wall—repeatedly. He even wanted to give Philza a piece of his mind. 

But he couldn’t get off the ground. 

So, Wilbur sat there pathetically, like a wet towel on the ground, for at least an hour, trying desperately to collect his thoughts, before he was able to drag himself up with the help of the wall behind him. 

He stumbled around for a while because his pride wouldn’t allow himself to try to go speak to his family while his stupid legs still weren’t fucking working. Wilbur walked around in that tiny 4x4 room until he felt like his legs wouldn’t collapse at any second. But his mind still wasn’t ready to face the world at the end of that hallway.

Too bad.

Wilbur walked with as much purpose as his muscles could handle until his hands fumbled at a solid dirt wall in front of him. He shuffled around the pockets of his coat, and found just a diamond shovel. It would have to do.

He began hacking away at the dirt and distantly wondered how the fuck and why the fuck Phil had gotten through this and then sealed it back up again. For the dramatics?

Finally, he punched a hole through, big enough to collapse the rest of the wall. Light stabbed uncomfortably at his eyes, and he couldn’t even see past it. Wil shut his eyes tight against that light and pushed through the hole barely big enough for his entire body.

When his eyes adjusted…

Oh. 

Well, this was…probably not the right side of L’Manburg. Wilbur was currently staring at Purpled’s very abandoned base and fucking Party Island. Both relatively intact. 

That was so anticlimactic…

Well, at least it did something to resolve the tension pulling violently at his heartstrings. Not much, however.

Wilbur forced himself to turn around and begin the work of scaling the hill at his back—incredibly difficult after not moving for three months—and kept his eyes firmly to the ground until he was stood at the peak. 

Oh. 

Fuck. 

It was gone. So, so very gone. For a second, his heart picked up again. Is this what it had looked like when he had blown it up? The tears pooled up all over again.

Wilbur couldn’t see a single spot of land that wasn’t utterly destroyed. There were pieces of wood dangling, from what used to be houses. Leftover fragments of stilts, some of them still standing. Was that how they rebuilt after Wilbur? 

Look up. An entire obsidian grid across the whole sky, covering all the clouds and view in multiple directions. Some of the redstone repeaters were still audibly clicking, no TNT left to dispense. 

Look down. It’s even worse. Bedrock. The bombs reached bedrock. He could only imagine how it must have felt and looked watching TNT rain from the sky, withers on either side, and fellow humans attacking you to your face. Wilbur wanted to break and fall. He wanted to hug the dirt and maybe go back to being dead.

But Ghostbur had been right, and Wilbur knew that. Even if his country—his family didn’t need help defeating Dream, they deserved at least an apology. Wilbur would be paying off the debt of his actions for some time now. He didn’t even mind. He wanted to start immediately. 

First, he had to actually locate Tommy and Tubbo. That was certainly his priority. After a good bit of struggling down a very dangerous and rocky cliffside, Wilbur made his way to a totally messy Prime Path. It had holes every other step, and Wilbur worried that his weary feet might not carry him through the trip. There were a few very scary stumbles along the way, but he eventually made it up and over the hill toward Tommy’s house, and was unbelievably relieved to find this area unscathed. 

The area was certainly different. Tommy’s house was made of dirt rather than his cherished smoothstone, likely a result of someone messing around while Tommy had been on exile. Wilbur’s blood still boiled just thinking of that. Dream would fucking pay.

Wil found himself stood like a statue outside Tommy’s doors. Hand raised to knock, but failing to move.

His eyes flicked up to take in the sign that read “TommyInnit’s Home” and the second one tacked on which cheerfully added “And Tubbo!”

Well, at least he would kill two birds with one stone. 

Knock, knock. 

“Tommy, there’s someone at the door!” came Tubbo’s voice.

“So fuckin’ open it,” Tommy replied. 

“I can’t!”

“Why?!”

“It’s your house!”

“It’s our house, Tubbo!”

“Tommy!”

“Fine!”

Wilbur heard the heavy footsteps grow louder as Tommy came from what was probably his planning room deep underground and yanked the door open, cutting off his own “What the fuck do you want” when his eyes met Wilbur’s. 

“Hey, Tommy.”


	2. Eighteen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two down, many to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! what's up? anyway please keep in mind for this chap and the next that Niki canonically does not know Wilbur died. thanks ily!!

“Holy shit,” Tommy dragged the words out as his eyes grew wider and wider. “It worked.”

All Wilbur could manage was what was likely The Most Awkward Smile in human history. Yikes, big man.

“What worked?” Tubbo asked curiously, and the shuffling sound from behind Tommy told Wilbur that the man was succumbing to his own curiosity.

“Tubbo,” Tommy said, though his eyes were still locked unblinkingly on Wilbur. “Wilbur’s…back.”

Wilbur couldn’t read the emotion in his voice. Pain? Anger? Disbelief? Relief? “Oh, Ghostbur’s here?” Tubbo asked cluelessly. “Excellent. He hasn’t been around all day and I was going to ask if he had any Blue on him because I…oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” was all Tommy said.

Together, the two of them just openly gaped at Wilbur stood there in front of him until he began to feel uncomfortable. 

“Uhm, could you please say some…words. Anything other than ‘oh, shit’ would do,” Wilbur said, in an attempt to both lighten their mood and his own.

Tubbo snapped out of it first. “Hi!” Oh, my God, Tubbo, more than that, please. “How are you?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tommy said, saving them all. He reached out, grabbing Wil by the collar of his coat and dragging him into a hug.

Tommy didn’t hug often. Neither did Wilbur. So, when he wrapped his arms around the younger boy, it wasn’t comfortable at first. Then Tubbo latched onto the two of them as well, and Wilbur let his tired limbs melt. 

Quickly, all three of them pulled away when the tension began to hang too thickly in the air. Tommy then pushed Wilbur harshly on the shoulder, and maybe Wil would’ve stayed on his feet if he hadn’t been dead for three months. As it was, he ended up on his ass, looking up at two cackling teenagers.

“I’m fuckin’ pissed at you, bro,” Tommy said, but there was little malice behind it.

“I know,” Wilbur answered as he stood shakily and dusted himself off. “You have a right to be.” 

Tubbo offered a hand to help Wilbur up, and the latter took it gratefully. He followed the two teenagers into their little dirt hut and sat when they gestured for him too. 

“I mean, I know Ghostbur said he wanted to bring you back, and we all endorsed it, but it almost seems too easy,” Tubbo stated casually.

Wilbur hummed in agreement. “To be fair, I have no idea if it was easy. Phil waited for me to wake up, gave me the books that Ghostbur wrote, and then left. Probably because he knew I’d be mad at him for killing Buddy.”

“Friend.”

“Yeah, that. Either way, it hurts like a fucking bitch, so there’s that.”

Tubbo pulled his feet up onto the chair with him, crouching in a ball like he’d always had a tendency to do. Wilbur found it endearing. He missed Tubbo, and he missed interacting with him when he wasn’t batshit crazy. 

“How much do you remember?” Tommy asked as he came back to the room with a cup of tea, handing it to Wilbur without acknowledging it. Classic Tommy.

Wilbur gingerly took a sip, but instantly decided it was far too hot to drink. “I remember everything up until I lost the election. It’s fuzzy from there; Philza says it was because I was insane, which honestly seems reasonable. And I remember pushing the button, forcing Phil to kill me, and then just…going to sleep.”

“So, we were right that you wouldn’t remember anything from Ghostbur,” Tubbo prodded. “We were wondering. We don’t really have any other experience with reviving people quite yet.”

Wilbur nodded with a small snort, but he appreciated the attempt at humor. Having two eager pairs of eyes on him while he sipped at scalding tea and tried to explain his existential crisis was fairly intimidating. “Yeah, but Ghostbur wrote it all down. Said that you guys helped him with all of it.”

The room grew quiet. “So…how do you feel about that, Big Man?” Tommy asked carefully.

Wil heaved a sigh. “I want to kill myself twice for what I did to you. And then I want to kill Dream twice for what he did. And then I want to torture Dream for the rest of his final life until he begs me to take it away.”

“So not that great.”

“Yeah, not that great.”

Tommy, bless his fucking heart, let out the most characteristic laugh, and Wil, though he began laughing as well, could’ve cried from the sound.

When the three of them calmed down, Tommy went on. “Yeah, there are definitely a couple people pissed at you right now, but I think they’ll get over it. I have plenty of reason to be mad at you, but I simply do not feel like it! We can deal with that after we deal with Dream, yeah?”

Wilbur didn’t really like the idea of Tommy pushing his anger off for a later date, but he wouldn’t be telling him what to do. He nodded. 

“Do you guys have…a plan for that, or?” 

“Not at all!” Tubbo cheered. Wilbur wanted to laugh, but he didn’t have it in him.

What the fuck was Wil supposed to say to that? He decided on nothing at all, and just sat quietly, sipping away at his tea.

“I say we have a bit of a meeting,” Tommy proposed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “Gather some people willing to fight; let them know the deal.”

“Tommy, you don’t even know what ‘the deal’ is,” Wilbur reminded him. “But I suppose it’s worth a try.”

“’Course it is,” Tommy mumbled, and set right away to shooting off messages on his comm.

“What, right now?” Tubbo asked incredulously. 

The younger boy snorted. “Well, to be frank, Tubbo, we haven’t got that much time on our hands.”

“That’s fair,” Tubbo conceded. “We said within the week, by the way, Wil.”

“Going after Dream?” Wilbur clarified. “Within the week?” 

Tubbo and Tommy grunted in confirmation, both sucked into their comm messages at this point. 

Wilbur just let them go on. At some point, he overheard the two of them debating over whether or not to contact Niki and Fundy. Wil knew from Ghostbur’s message that the two of them weren’t entirely supportive of the cause, but he was happy when they decided to at least send the invites. The two could do as they pleased. By the time Tommy and Tubbo started gathering materials to head over to the agreed upon meeting place, 15 people were confirmed to join them. This included Sapnap, Callahan, Sam, Ponk, Bad, Skeppy, Eret, Jack, Quackity, Karl, HBomb, Antfrost, Connor, Puffy, and Ranboo. Neither Fundy nor Niki replied. Technoblade and Philza were very obviously left off the list. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Tommy said, tossing Wilbur a full set of iron armor. “I haven’t got much, but you’ll need at least some protection.”

And though it felt inherently wrong, Wil complied. “Sure. If you have any extra materials, that’d be great. I can try to gather materials.”

Tommy looked at him funny. “What the fuck? No, of course, not. You’re coming with us.”

Wilbur’s stomach sank. He really didn’t want to go against Tommy, not now, but… “I’m not sure that’s a fantastic idea, Tommy.”

“Why?” Tommy yelled in that outraged voice he often wore for the humorous effect. 

Wilbur fidgeted with his fingers, feet twisting on the ground. “I don’t think they’d want to see me. It could be pretty…off-putting. A lot of this is still my fault, no matter what. Especially if Fundy or Niki decides to show.”

“Honestly, Wil, I don’t care. You came back to help us and that’s what you’ll be doing,” Tommy offered no room for argument.

Wilbur stepped down.

“Plus,” Tubbo cut in, having returned from gathering materials from one of Tommy’s many back rooms. “They deserve to know. Especially Fundy and Niki.”

Wil nodded in acknowledgement, reluctantly agreeing, but still being anxious about the reaction his appearance would garner. He couldn’t imagine it would go well, at all. 

Maybe Wilbur deserved that, anyway. 

He followed behind Tubbo and Tommy with his head angled down in an attempt to prepare himself for the upcoming meeting. Wil wanted to be there for the two, more than anything, especially now that he knew they had no one else to trust but each other.

Tommy and Tubbo were kids. They deserved to be kids. Wilbur wished he would’ve let them be kids. 

He wanted to be there for them, but he found himself constantly questioning if he was the right person for the job. He’d let them down so many times before; they had no reason to trust him this time around. The problem and the solution he was eventually forced to come up with was that there was no other choice. So, Wil steeled himself, squared his shoulders, and walked on, even joining in on the conversation where he could. 

They arrived soon enough at Church Prime, where the meeting would take place considering its nonviolent status.

“Maybe you should stay outside for a minute, Wil,” Tommy suggested. “At least let us give you a dramatic entrance.”

Wilbur nodded, happy to appease Tommy if it would cheer him up even in the slightest.

“Plus, I want to be able to prepare them for…what they’re about to see.”

“Whatever you want to do, Tommy,” Wil said, letting his hand rest on Tommy’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I trust you. No need to justify yourself.”

“You trust me?” Tommy asked.

“Of course.”

“Why should you?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” It was an easy counter. 

Tommy stumbled over his words. “Because I failed. L’Manburg is gone, me and Tubbo almost lost each other, or killed one another. I couldn’t keep Fundy or Niki on our side. I couldn’t stop Technoblade or Dream.”

This was very obviously a topic which would require further conversation at some point in time. “Tommy, there’s no way to be brief about this but when I blew up L’Manburg, the intention was for it to be gone, forever. You kept it alive for three months under worse pressure than I ever experienced. Of course, I’m proud of you. Both of you.”

Tommy, uncomfortable with the heartfelt words, nodded promptly and disappeared off into the church. Tubbo pat Wilbur on the shoulder and muttered a quick thanks before following. 

Wilbur waited outside the back door of the church, making sure he could hear when Tommy called for him. He watched as each person showed up, faces grim but determined, eyes flickering back in forth scanning for threats. Most of them arrived in pairs or groups. Quackity, Karl, Sapnap, Callahan. HBomb and Connor. Eret and Puffy. Sam, Ponk, Skeppy, Bad, and Antfrost altogether. The last person to arrive showed up entirely alone. He was tall and lanky, with his skin split black and white down the middle. He wore a suit under what Wilbur recognized to be an Antarctic Empire cloak that he took off and hid in a bush before entering the church. This must be Ranboo.

Wil listened as the 17 of them chatted light-heartedly—or tried to—before Tommy called attention. There was no sign of Niki or Fundy. Some part of Wilbur was undoubtedly disappointed. After Tommy and Tubbo, he cared about those two the most.

“It’s time to take Dream down,” Tommy was saying when Wilbur tuned back in. In all honesty, he’d heard the speech before, but enjoyed hearing how confident Tommy sounded while delivering it. “For good, this time.”

“You think it’s possible?” came Sapnap’s voice. “We’ve tried in the past, what makes you think it’ll work this time?”

“I don’t know that it will work,” Tommy replied calmly, which was admittedly uncharacteristic. “But I’m ready to believe that we can. No matter how powerful Dream and Techno and Phil are, it’s a three versus at least eighteen. No one’s winning that fight.”

“You think Techno is on Dream’s side?” Ranboo spoke up. His voice was extremely soothing but seemed almost devoid of emotion. 

Tommy was quiet for a moment. “I think Techno is against me. I told him I’d help him get his weapons back, and then I left his side to go back to Tubbo. To L’Manburg. He’s…holding a grudge. I can’t really hold that against him. Plus, he owes a pretty big favor to Dream. I don’t see Techno breaking that promise.”

“What favor?” Tubbo piped up.

“Dream helped Techno get away when you guys tried to kill him.”

“Well, fuck,” Quackity laughed weakly.

“I don’t want to choose sides,” Ranboo said quietly, almost as if he hadn’t wanted anyone to hear him. “I want to choose people.”

“Ranboo,” Tubbo took charge on this one. “I think you’re right. But I think there will always be sides. No matter what. At least until Dream is gone. Quackity said once that every bad thing that’s happened on this server can be traced back to Dream, and it’s true. If you can’t fight with us, I understand.”

“I just want to help my friends,” Ranboo answered softly. “But I’m pretty sure Techno and Phil are my friends, too.”

The room went quiet. Until Conner spoke, “Do what feels right for you, dude. I know I personally think Dream is a massive dickhead and it feels right for me to kick his ass. But you’re not a villain if you can’t justify action. Not here.”

A couple of people piped up in agreement. 

“Fuck it,” Sapnap sighed. “I’ll fight.”

“Me, too,” said Karl.

“And me,” HBomb added.

“Of fucking course, I will,” Quackity chirped.

From there, everyone in the room agreed to help. Wilbur assumed Callahan was included, because no one spoke to ask him to change his mind. Ranboo promised to help in preparation but wasn’t sure whether or not he’d fight when the day came. And that was okay.

“What about Niki and Fundy?” asked Captain Puffy. 

“They were invited to the meeting,” Tubbo began cautiously. “But I know they weren’t really happy with L’Manburg, even before the explosion. With me and Tommy, specifically.”

“Can’t really blame them for it,” said Jack Manifold. “I’m not particularly happy either; I just hate Dream more than I hate you.”

“That’s—” Tommy yelled, but either stopped himself or was glared at by Tubbo. “That’s fair.”

Eret spoke for the first time, “One question.” Wil assumed he was given a gesture to continue. “Earlier you mentioned a three versus at least eighteen. Everyone in this room, including Ranboo, makes seventeen, and Fundy and Niki are pretty much no-goes.

“Who are you hiding up your sleeve?”

“Smart, Eret,” Tommy laughed, but his voice was tense. “I know I’m asking a lot, but you’re really gonna need to trust me on this one, yeah?”

Dead silence. What a good sign.

“Yeah, come on in,” Tommy’s voice was directed behind him rather than to the group before him, and Wil felt safe in assuming that that was his cue. He did, however, feel like he was going to throw up.

So he didn’t wait any longer before standing and busting in through the back door. He came to stand with Tommy and Tubbo, in between them. 

“Oh, Ghostbur! How you been, bro?” Karl asked cheerfully.

Wilbur grimaced.

“Not…exactly,” Tommy hinted. The room descended into chaos within ten seconds.

“No fucking way!” Sapnap shouted.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“Wilbur?”

“Bitch, you fucking died.”

“I’m really confused.”

“So, this is the bitch you guys keep talking about!”

“Hi, Wilbur! Nice to meet you.” Tubbo was right. Wil did like Ranboo. 

“Wil, want to uh…explain?” Tommy suggested, giving him a look that suggested it wasn’t really a question.

“Forgive me if my voice is hoarse; I haven’t spoken in about three months,” is what Wilbur started off with. “Uhm, basically Ghostbur asked Philza to bring him back to life the day everything went to shit, and he did it. For a ghost, it’s apparently just like dying…again. Yes, I have most of my memories from Alivebur, just missing a few from my period of insanity. No, I don’t remember anything from Ghostbur. However, he wrote me a good summary of what I missed.”

“Ghostbur hated you,” Sapnap blurted out, and Karl elbowed him harshly. “Sorry, I mean, no offense, but like…why would he want to bring you back?”

Wilbur glanced sideways at Tommy, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “He wrote that he needed someone to help against Dream, and that I would be better at that.”

“So, you’re going to help?” asked Eret. Wilbur nodded firmly in response rather than talking, already feeling the ache on his throat. 

“Right!” Tommy thankfully interrupted the awkward silence that had begun to take over the room. “I’d love it if we could get to work on gathering as many supplies as possible. Except, maybe let’s keep it in our enderchests this time ‘round… If you’re good at planning this type of thing, please let me know because I’m starting to think I am not. And—”

“What. The fucking. Shit.”

Wilbur’s eyes snapped up from where they’d begun to lose focus from extreme lack of sleep. (You’d think being dead would be restful. Spoiler alert: it’s not.) 

His eyes caught Fundy’s first. And Niki’s immediately after.

“I second that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im fucking spoiling you guys for sure. two chapters within like 2 hrs of each other? idc im on a roll and i kinda feel bad for leaving you guys hanging so often :) LMK HOW YA LIKE?


	3. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are the warriors that built this fucking town.”
> 
> All they've got to do is somehow channel how they'd felt the first time around. They were half-dead, or dead twice over, and wanted nothing more than to give up. Except just to win. For once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow im so proud of myself. the chapters are shorter now but the ending just keeps coming so naturally i don't wanna force it. especially since this is a multi-part rather than a one shot so i don't feel like i need to keep it long like the others. Im kinda trying to get a good amount of this out before the tenth bc i don't want the canon revival to fuck up the storyline i have slightly planned lol.

Goddamnit. 

This is what Wilbur was fucking worried about.

The tension in the room fucking skyrocketed as Wilbur tried to decide whether to look at Fundy, Niki, or the ground. 

“Hi…guys…” he ended up sputtering awkwardly, then winced and pinched himself in punishment. 

“Where have you been?” Niki shouted. She stomped up to Wilbur so threateningly that he stepped backwards in fear. “What the fuck, Wilbur? You can’t just fucking blow up the country and then disappear! It doesn’t work like that! You have to stick around and own up to your mistakes!”

“Um…” Wilbur stuttered. Why the fuck did she not know? How did she not know?!

“Um what?” Niki snapped, and didn’t seem to notice that everyone around her was waiting with bated breath for her to catch on. “Where. The fuck. Were you.”

“Dead.”

“Whoop, there it is,” came Tommy’s voice, followed immediately by the sound of a smack echoing throughout the silent room.

Niki narrowed her eyes, mouth forming around words that never made it past her lips. “What?”

Wilbur had trouble meeting her eyes, but forced himself to do it. “I pressed the button…and then Philza was there…and I made him stab me…and I…died…”

“What the fuck do you mean, you died? That would’ve been your last life and you’re standing here in front of me!”

Wil winced again, noticing that several others in the room did as well. “Yeah, so, when you lose all your lives, you become a ghost. But then there’s this fun thing that happens where if the person who killed you when you were alive kills you as a ghost, you come back.”

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been a ghost for three fucking months?” Niki seemed incredulous.

Wilbur nodded. 

“Niki,” came Fundy’s quiet voice. Wil just then noticed that he’d come up behind Niki, placing a grounding hand on her shoulder. “It’s true.”

Wilbur bit his lip uncomfortably as the entire fucking room watched on. 

“Wilbur,” he snapped up to look at Fundy, and shrank back at his fiery gaze. God, they were so mad at him. “Why did Ghostbur bring you back? He—”

“Hated me? I’ve heard,” Wilbur interrupted. “I don’t remember anything from Ghostbur, but he wrote it all down, and said he wanted to help defeat Dream, and I was the best way he could do that.” 

Fundy sneered, “I don’t fucking want you back. Fuck you.” But to his surprise, Fundy turned away and sat down in a seat, Niki following. “But I’ll hear what Tommy has to say.”

That was fair. Wilbur hadn’t been able to see it at the time, but plenty of people had told Wil that he’d been a horrible father. And Niki…had every right to be mad at him as well. They all did. 

He stepped backwards, letting Tommy takeover again. Tubbo peeked at Wilbur in concern. Wil sent him a smile that he hoped for more convincing than it felt. 

Wilbur tuned Tommy out into the background as Tommy explained again. This was the third time he’d heard it now, and he let it soothe him enough to rest his mind. 

“Why should we help?” Niki spoke for herself and Fundy. “You failed. Wilbur failed. L’Manburg is dead. What’s there to fight for? Why shouldn’t we just let Dream do what he wants to you and leave the rest of us alone?”

“He won’t leave you alone,” Wilbur spoke. Without thinking. He snapped his mouth shut and glanced sheepishly at Tommy. “Sorry.”

“Keep going, Wil.”

He sighed. “From what I know, Dream liked messing with Tommy because it’s fun for him. What about when Tommy’s not there for him to mess around with? Or when Tommy’s no longer fun? Tubbo, right? Then who? It’s not like he’ll just…stop. Why should he? Dream has control over the whole world. If no one’s there to stop him, why would he stop himself?”

“You allied with Dream before,” Eret pointed out.

Wil snorted, which was probably not in good taste, but he was so fucking exhausted. “No offense, Eret, but I think that was very obviously the worst mistake I ever made, don’t you? Plus, Dream doesn’t make allies. He gains lackeys.

“Fucking Sapnap is sat right there, pledged to fight with us. If Dream had any allies, Sapnap would be one of them.” Sapnap made an offended noise. “I’m sorry. Death is tiring.”

Sapnap shrugged as if to say, “all good.” Aha, a single ounce of validation. Wondrous. 

“Fuck,” Fundy spat, jaw working in frustration. “He’s right.”

Wilbur’s heart swelled, but was immediately stomped back down when Fundy shot him a nasty glare. Well, that was that.

“I’ll fight. Not with you, just against Dream. I want him dead.”

Fundy looked to Niki, along with everyone else in the room. She nodded once. It was over.

The group, as a whole, decided to spend the rest of the day gathering necessary resources. Ponk especially seemed weary around Fundy and Niki, so he along with Sapnap went together as a group. Neither of the two were very happy feeling as if they were being babysat, but no one made any comments out loud.

Wilbur asked if he could hunt by himself, needing the time in silence and loneliness, but Tommy and Tubbo both agreed it was too dangerous, so Wil tagged along with the two of them and Eret. Tommy and Tubbo goofed around like teenagers for the entire trip, which didn’t really help Wilbur’s exhausted condition. He felt like a dead man walking.

Oh, fuck.

Eret, to their credit, remained mostly silent. When Tubbo and Tommy drifted slightly too far ahead, Wilbur and his pounding headache made no move to catch up, and neither did the king.

Wilbur had half a mind to be hesitant. He’d trusted Eret with his whole heart in the past, and he’d ended up with many lost lives and quite the bout of trust issues in return. Since then, Eret had done work to redeem themself. Wil had gray and fuzzy memories of the king putting in work to gather forgiveness gifts just ever Tommy and Wilbur’s exile from Manburg, as well as fighting on their side during the second war. Wilbur knew nothing about Eret’s actions after the button was pushed, but he had no reason to believe that they were untrustworthy. 

As if they could sense it, Eret spoke up just then, while both of them were on their knees scavenging the surrounding rock. “I’m sorry,” they said quietly, almost so that Wilbur didn’t hear them.

“Hmm?” Wilbur asked, pausing to give Eret time to back out. “What would you be sorry for?”

Eret snorted. “Well, to be fair, I did literally betray you when you needed me most. All of you.”

“Well, unless you’re planning to do that again, I thought we’d all put that bit behind us.”

“Tommy is never going to forgive me.”

Wilbur opened his mouth to argue, but…

Eret made a noise of confirmation. They didn’t need Wilbur to tell them that Eret had lost Tommy’s trust long ago, and it would take more than half-assed assistance in one war to earn it back. “No, actually, I’m sorry because I think I lied to Ghostbur.”

Wil was confused. “I’m not Ghostbur,” he argued back. “I’m Alivebur…Wilbur. You lying to Ghostbur doesn’t really bother me.”

“Yeah, but I think you deserve to know,” Eret paused until Wilbur gave them a gesture to continue on. “Ghostbur came to me for help with the resurrection, too, because he saw me as very powerful. I couldn’t do anything but just…talk to him. One of the things he asked me was if Fundy liked Alivebur.”

Wilbur tensed instantly. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that his relationship with Fundy, as a father, was less than positive. He’d given nothing to Fundy, and deserved nothing in return. Nothing more than the hatred and despair that Fundy offered. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that Fundy loved him,” they responded without hesitation. For a moment, the silence took over, as Eret gave Wilbur a moment to understand the weight and the consequences of those words. “But…maybe it’s not a lie anyway.”

At that moment, Tommy called to Eret and Wilbur entirely too loudly. He’d called it for the day, declaring it too dark and consequently unsafe for them to continue. Wilbur’s brain was racing, trying to make sense of what Eret had said. Of course, Eret had lied. Fundy did not love Wilbur. Why should he?

The four of them traversed back, Eret and Wilbur back to their reserved silence, the teenagers chatting happily up ahead. No follow-up was provided on what Eret had said.

Until the four of them reached the crossroads, where Tommy and Tubbo continued straight on their way to Tommy’s house, and Wilbur made to follow, until Eret placed a gentle hand on Wil’s elbow.

The touch felt strange. Wilbur’s body was still cold and stiff and completely unused to human displays of emotion. Electricity coursed through his veins, and the king seemed to notice, drawing his fingers away far too quickly.

“I don’t think you should,” they said. “Be over it, I mean. What I did to you. I think you should hold it against me.”

Wilbur offered no response. He didn’t know if he deserved to feel angry at anyone, but he held eye contact with Eret, no matter how it burned.

“And Wilbur. Fundy does love you. He’s angry—God, he’s fucking furious. But you’re his dad. He mourned you, and he missed you, and he loves you still today.”

Wilbur wasn’t sure why Eret felt comfortable enough in Fundy’s behavioral patterns to mention it to Wil. Why they were so sure that Fundy felt that way, enough to give Wilbur such a mean spark of hope. Ghostbur hadn’t written anything like that in the books. 

He was given no chance to ask. Eret turned left and walked away, seeming at peace. Wilbur hoped that they were. 

He turned away and began the work of catching up to his boys. 

Waking up felt like being revived all over again, with slightly lest respiratory failure. He’d crashed in one of Tommy’s chairs moments after dropping into it, and Tommy and Tubbo had gone somewhere else, leaving Wil alone to his rest. But when he woke again, he began to wish he hadn’t.

The motivation it took simply to stand and drag himself over to the nearest sink was impeccable. He wasn’t even going to attempt a proper shower, just stood over the faucet and splashed the water into his face. 

The sun was barely rising. Maybe that was why he felt so—well, dead. Wilbur certainly hadn’t got enough sleep, but he supposed some outer force liked it that way. Either way, Wil was up now, and he wouldn’t be going back to sleep.

He wanted to see something. 

Long ago, before that second war, Wil had given many of his books to Tubbo to store underground in his own miniature archives. He wondered if they’d survived the blast—or blasts. 

He scribbled a quick note and left it in the chair he’d been resting in, assuring Tommy that he was still alive and well, just off on a walk. 

Wilbur was surprisingly confused in his surroundings. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his fucked memory or the fucked landscape. Either way, it took Wilbur a good twenty minutes just to find what was left of the entrance to the tunnel which led back to Pogtopia. 

Party fucking Island had survived the blast. Pokimane stood there, in her full glory. Some of Wilbur’s psychotic arsonous tendencies slightly resurfaced. He dipped under the frigid water just for a moment, and dropped down into the tunnel dry again, feet hitting the stone firmly. 

The tunnel was certainly a mess, but it had been that way long before either explosion. It took a little too much mental steeling to actually begin walking. There were absolutely no good memories from this pathway or what was to be found at the other side of it. 

Luckily, Wilbur didn’t have to walk long. The archives were only about halfway down, and fairly intact. Wil was delighted to find plenty of left over potions and precious metals in the abandoned chest well below the earth’s surface. 

He gathered as much as he could carry before traveling just under the stairs and into the tiny nook there. All the books still remained.

He touched the pages gently and gingerly, basking in the scent of old words and dusty leather. Wilbur had always loved the library.

His book sat in a position of honor, which brought a hint of a smile to his cheeks. 

Wilbur would’ve sat there, comfortable in this room, but knew he’d already been gone for a considerably long time, and knew he should return before Tommy’s paranoia and anxiety began to pick in. He packed a couple of the most important books where they would fit before hurrying away.

Leaving the tunnels was easier than entering him. He could practically feel the uncomfortable weight lifting off of his shoulders.

Tommy and Tubbo were still dead asleep when Wilbur returned, the sun just barely over the horizon. So, he sat back in his chair, discarding the unused note, and began to read.

The book he’d gone for was the L’Manburg Declaration of War. His country was gone, but the book still held that fighting spirit Wilbur hoped to harness for his future endeavors. 

Independence…or death.

He could hear his own voice, whispers in his head.

If we get no revolution, then we want nothing.

Wilbur had been so confident. Had been so sure that they would win. Of course, they would. They were a group of teenagers with nothing to lose.

This is where it all ends, Wilbur had said once before. He’d been wrong. It never really ended.

Even when Dream was gone, nothing would be over. Technoblade had his eyes set on anything with a noticeable hierarchy. Everyone was hungry for power, revenge, or both. Tommy would probably—definitely—do something stupid and maybe the cycle would start all over again. Maybe Niki and Fundy were right anyway.

For now, he wouldn’t let Tommy down. For now, Wilbur wanted Dream’s head on a burning pile, and his mask hung on the wall. He was no different from those who wanted revenge. 

We would rather die than give in to you.

They still would. Nothing had changed.

Nothing had changed at all.

Wilbur closed his eyes and saw Tommy, bow drawn, feet away from Dream. 

He saw Tommy sinking slowly into the water. Nothing they could do.

He heard Tommy’s cries, outraged beyond recognition, and Wilbur’s fingers clenched as if he was holding Tommy back as he had been then.

One.

Wilbur felt so powerful.

Two.

Yet so small.

Three.

Tommy looked so hungry.

Four. 

And so young.

Five. 

Tubbo followed readily.

Six.

Too trusting.

Seven.

And Dream was laughing.

Eight. 

Always fucking laughing.

Nine.

What then?

Ten paces, fire.

How could you? We farmed for hours! Listen to me, and I mean this in the nicest way possible…

They’d all fucked up.

Wilbur opened his eyes.

Tommy was there, eyes fixed on the book in Wilbur’s hands. Maybe he was going through the same thing as Wilbur, voices and scenes and physical pain playing on repeat in his mind. Wil snapped the book shut, and Tommy’s eyes met his.

“Here we are, Tommy.”

The boy set his shoulders tight and strong. Wilbur stood to face him.

“Dream will be there. And he won’t turn away, now. Not this time. We won’t let him.”

Tubbo had arrived, too, silent as he witnessed his idol return to his full, glorious passion. 

Tommy waited quietly as well. He was never quiet.

The world was silent around them. Deadly. In 24 hours’ time, they would be the same. Or someone else would be. Someone who deserved it thousands of times more than Tommy, than any of them ever did. Someone who seemed to be letting it hang in the air, a temptation. It was time.

“We are the warriors that built this fucking town.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you love you love you love you! how'd ya like it? i enjoy writing niki PISSED as she SHOULD and it was also kinda funnier and looser than the others. but i also like some good old angst and some revolutionary spirit, so we threw some of that in, of course. as always, i love to hear from you! all my love! -soft

**Author's Note:**

> HOW WAS IT? I'm so excited for this. i know i keep making promises i don't keep but istg i will be continuing this bc i left it on a considerably large cliffhanger and if i don't PLEASE hold me accountable. thanks! i love you all much much. Lmk how you liked it?


End file.
